


I'll find my way back to you, if you'll be waiting

by janie_tangerine



Category: Dark Tower - Stephen King
Genre: (idek), Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Camping, Fix-It, M/M, Pop Culture, REALLY HEAVY SPOILERS, Reincarnation, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, spoilers for book seven
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 10:27:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14103357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janie_tangerine/pseuds/janie_tangerine
Summary: Eddie stares at the cup for a good minute, trying to tell himself that what he has just seen is sleep deprivation or something else, but - but he’s had nine hours of sleep tonight and it can’t be that, and while it sounds totally insane maybe - just maybe -“Man, have I gone insane or did I really try to help you save the universe once upon a time?”For a moment the man - Roland - says nothing.Then.“Why did the dead baby cross the road?”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo, this puts together three R/E things I wrote as a fill for tumblr prompts - the fill was for 'coffee shop AU' (with the added reincarnation because WHY NOT), the second for a sentence prompt list where you should write fic for a line you were given and I was asked _“Have I entered an alternate universe or did you really just crack a smile for me?”_ , the other was a sorta Halloween prompt with _Eddie/Roland, something with Ghost of Tom Joad OR Night with the Jersey Devil_ and I put them all in the same 'verse because I'm lazy. Here, have the otp of my heart I don't write often enough for my tastes. ;_;
> 
> Also: THIS HAS SPOILERS FOR BOOK SEVEN. LIKE A LOT. POST-SERIES. YOU WERE WARNED.
> 
> Also: this is obviously book canon, the movie doesn't exist for these purposes. /o\
> 
> Finally: they belong to King of course I wish they belonged to me, the title is from Tracy Chapman and I'm done, I'll leave it here and saunter back downwards as usual /o\\.

Thing is, Eddie doesn’t  _dislike_  the job at all - sure, tending bar at Starbucks wasn’t his idea of making a living back in the day, but after your brother gets you stuck into jail because he hid  _his_  dope in your bag and you were caught in it, and after detoxing while in fucking prison, tending bar at Starbucks sounds like a pretty damn great option; also, he’s taking classes at the local community college when he can so hopefully it’s not going to be what he does for the next twenty years of his life. Never mind that spending your life with an inkling that  _something_  is missing will make you re-evaluate menial jobs - he can’t remember a moment when he didn’t feel weird, as if he wasn’t supposed to be living the life he had in the first place, which admittedly was one of the reasons why he followed up his brother in the heroin-related downward spiral.

Anyway, it’s a living. Also, people like him because he never misspells names on the coffee cups, which is something he’s maybe a bit too proud of, but still, at least his boss is aware that customers do appreciate his efforts so he’s not going to get fired anytime soon.

Today’s not really special or anything. It’s kind of slow, also because there’s pretty shitty weather outside even for New York standards. No one’s been in for the last fifteen minutes, which is why he’s reading up on Robert Browning for his class three days from now when suddenly a shadow covers his copy of  _Childe Roland to the Dark Tower Came._

“Hey,” he says, putting out the book, “what can I get you?”

And then he raises his eyes and meets a pair of icy blue ones, and  _damn_  but the guy looks like Clint Eastwood, only a bit more roughened up. He also looks damn  _familiar_  - it’s not just the eyes, and it’s not just that he looks like Eastwood, but - there’s  _something_ in the way he’s staring at Eddie intently that is kind of maybe going to his head a bit. Never mind that the guy is hot - he might be a bit older than the usual kind of person Eddie likes to hook up with, but he looks damn  _fine_  in the tight blue jeans he’s wearing. Also who goes around with a cowboy hat in New York, though? Maybe he’s Texan. Though he doesn’t really look much Texan.

“Just an espresso,” the man answers, and  _damn_  but he has a low, rough voice that somehow reminds Eddie of sandpaper and which still sounds damn familiar, except that he can’t place it. “One - one shot only.”

“Okay. Can I get you something to eat too?”

The man seems to consider it for a moment. Then.

“No.”

“Fine, suit yourself if you want to miss the house’s special. Not that it’s not different from the house’s special in  _all_  the joints in New York, but what can you do.”

He’s about to hand the coffee cup to his co-worker, but damn, she’s gone to the bathroom and while he could pour the coffee himself he’s not supposed to leave the check out unattended.

"Well, seems like you’ll have to wait a bit. Hey, what’s your name? She’ll just call you later.”

The guy looks straight at him. And.

“Roland.”

Eddie’s written the first three letters on the cup on automatic before his hand stops abruptly.

Roland.

_Roland_?

Wait a fucking moment why does  _that_ sound familiar -

Oh.

_Oh._

Eddie stares at the cup for a good minute, trying to tell himself that what he has just  _seen_  is sleep deprivation or  _something else_ , but - but he’s had nine hours of sleep tonight and it can’t be that, and while it sounds totally insane maybe - just  _maybe_  -

“Man, have I gone insane or did I really try to help you save the universe once upon a time?”

For a moment the man - Roland - says nothing.

Then.

“Why did the dead baby cross the road?” He asks, delivering it so straight Eddie can’t even believe it, and -

“Because it was stapled to the chicken,” he finishes, not realizing that he might be crying until he feels salt on his mouth and his vision gets blurry, but then Roland’s hands curls up on his and as he grasps back without even thinking about it he feels very, very thankful that his shift is almost over.

 

End.


	2. Chapter 2

There are a lot of things Eddie would like to do right now.  _A lot_. Serving coffee isn’t one of them, but if his coworker comes back and finds them like this he’s going to have a tough time explaining it and so he forces himself to move back and finishes writing the name on the espresso cup before passing it over on the side - good thing because Jane shows up a moment later.

“Uhm, okay, that coffee’s going to be ready in a minute and I’m off in fifteen, just - I’ll join you, okay?”

Roland just gives him a nod and moves over to the side. There’s a line behind him. Shit, these are going to be the longest fifteen minutes of Eddie’s life as he remembers it anyway. At least the guy supposed to take his place isn’t late, so the moment he’s there Eddie goes taking off his apron and tag, gets his book and goes straight for the small table Roland’s sitting at - thankfully the rest of the shop isn’t full and no one is looking at them.

“Hey,” he says, his throat feeling as rough as sandpaper. Roland looks up from his empty cup, and his face is still impassible. Or better - his eyes are  _everything_  but not expressive, and he looks like someone who’s not even sure he’s  _really_  someplace and not somewhere else.

“Uhm, I imagine that - that you didn’t, well, live out your life in my fair city this time round. Or did you?”

“No,” Roland replies, his fingers tightening around the cup - he looks as if he’s itching to be holding  _something else._  Probably a gun if he remembers right. “For that matter - look behind you.”

Eddie does.

And then his blood runs somewhat cold - there’s a door levitating in the air, and there’s a field of roses on the other side.

“Wait,” Eddie hisses, hoping that no one is hearing him, “does  _that_  mean -”

“The first time we met,” Roland says cautiously, “it was the seventeenth time round.”

Eddie’s blood runs cold.

“And which number’s  _this_  time around?”

“You weren’t there for the eighteenth. You were there for the nineteenth. This is the twenty-first, in theory.”

“ _In theory_?”

“It’s… complicated,” Roland says, “but this time round I remembered everything. I didn’t, for the previous ones. Jake was there for the twentieth.”

“ _What_.”

“I did right by him, that time, but - it was just the two of us. And now - he’s dealing with it.”

“ _Jake_.”

“It’s a long story. Let’s say that  _this_  time round, I didn’t go inside the tower. And that door you’re seeing - it was supposed to lead me where I  _wanted_  to be.”

Eddie swallows. “But if it’s still open -”

“Well, yes, it means there’s a way to Mid-World. And if you still want to see the Tower, it’s there. We  _could_  go.”

“You don’t sound too enthusiastic,” Eddie retorts. Fine, he  _had_  wanted to see the damned thing for a very long time and the prospect  _is_  fairly tempting, but the way Roland looks, he’s not so sure it’s a good idea.

“I’ve seen it for the first time  _twenty_  times over. I think the enthusiasm has waned over.”

Which is a fairly interesting point, and  _well_ , Eddie would really like to know what’s the deal with  _that_ , especially since he didn’t remember Roland ever looking this tired.

“Fine. So what do you  _want_?” Eddie finally asks.

“What?”

“My opinion is fairly irrelevant right now. I mean, it’s not like I need you to play knight in shining armor - or handguns - to my damsel in distress right now, my life could be a lot worse. So, again, what do  _you_  want to do?”

“What I want might be quite drastic.”

“Fine. I can handle drastic. I think I handled it before, didn’t I?”

“You did,” Roland agrees, and then he stands up, goes over to the door, glances around and when he’s sure no one is looking his way, he shuts the door close.

Eddie  _maybe_  stares.

“Wait, did you -”

“Didn’t you tell me some story about getting off drugs and going -  _cool turkey_  or something like that?”

Eddie shrugs, wishing he’d understand what Roland’s aiming at. “Well, uh, cold turkey is like, when you just stop taking drugs at once. And you start puking, hallucinating and so on while it wears off. My brother, he used to say that the part in between quitting and the side effects was going cool turkey. As in, you still weren’t fucked over but you  _knew_  you were going to be eventually and you just waited for shit to hit the fan.”

“Right. You also said I was a - Tower junkie, didn’t you?”

“I think all of us more or less were,” Eddie says.

“Well, I might have just quit cold turkey. The  _cool_  part was in between stepping out of it and walking here, I think.”

He doesn’t sound  _that_  devastated about that, though. Even if that sounded tentative.

Not that Eddie has a single problem with it.

“Why then, I think I have a few proposals for you.”

“… As in?”

“My place isn’t half as terrible this time round. You could come over. You could also tell me  _everything_  that went on, even if I doubt I’ll want to hear it, but that’s not the point. Then I think fucking  _ka_  owes you at least some nice pizza and apple pie or  _something_ , just to make the cold turkey phase go somewhat smoother. Though - wait a moment and sit down again. I think there’s something else I need to do first.”

Roland just nods at him and sits down. Which is even too stoic and silent even for his standards. Eddie just goes back to the counter and gets a medium sized caramel frappuccino with his employee discount - if what Roland had told him once about  _sugar in his world_  is still valid, this might at least break the stoic and silent routine. Maybe.

He brings the coffee over to the table.

“Drink it,” he says.

“This looks  _strange_ ,” Roland replies.

“We ate  _lobostrosities_  once upon a time, Roland, I think you can handle frappuccino.”

“ _What_ is the name even?”

“Never mind. Have it. It’s good for the soul. You will probably like it. Come on, just go for it. You  _closed the door on your precious Tower_ , you can try a fucking caffeinated drink.”

Roland sends him a glare that has no bite in it and takes a sip.

And then he stops glaring and takes another.

“So?” Eddie asks.

“… It’s delicious,” Roland admits. “It’s also  _strange_. But it’s good.”

“As if I wouldn’t  _square deal_  you, Roland. I’m hurt here,” Eddie says in a tone that entirely shows that he’s not serious about it -

And then Roland stops drinking, looks up at him and actually smiles for the first time since he stepped inside the shop. And it doesn’t last a few seconds - fine, it’s not  _full-on_ , but it just - stays there.

Fine. Eddie should have just savored the moment, probably. Instead he does what comes natural and speaks before his brain to mouth filter kicks in.

“Hey, bear with me a moment, but… have I entered an alternate universe or did you really just crack a smile for me? Because it feels like it’s reversed right now, just so you know.”

Fine. He hadn’t thought Roland would actually half-choke on the coffee, but after he’s done coughing he’s still half-smiling and his fingers wrap delicately around Eddie’s wrist again, and -

“You don’t know how much I missed your blathering,” he says, and it  _might_  have sounded perfectly straight if he wasn’t still half-smiling, and as Eddie grasps back at his fingers he decides that he’ll take it for the compliment it it.

 

End.


	3. Chapter 3

“People say  _what_ ,” Roland says, sounding like he usually does when he thinks Eddie’s world is a place full of madmen.

Given the story Eddie’s just told him, admittedly, he’s not  _completely_ wrong.

“Uh, that there’s, like, a devil in this area.”

“ _A_  devil.”

“Well, of course it’s bullshit,” Eddie says, wondering why the hell he decided that  _going camping_  was a thing Roland should try when it came to  _his_  world and its customs.

Admittedly,  _he_  didn’t decide it. Or better, he did after Roland saw some people doing it in some kinda movie whose title Eddie forgot already and asked clarifications about the entire concept, and he still looked kind of baffled, and so Eddie had thought that hey, the man earned a reprieve from the universe after reaching the darned Dark Tower  _twenty_  times, he might as well learn the joys of  _camping_.

Then again, wherever Eddie was living was  _where he apparently wanted to end up_ , and it’s not as if Eddie ever went much farther than New York in this life or the previous one, not counting Mid-World of course, which is why the best Eddie could think of for camping was fucking Jersey.

So, that’s how they ended up somewhere near Batsto Village, in an area where camping’s allowed, and it’s just the two of them. Eddie doesn’t have a doubt of why – as in, no one who comes to the Pine Barrens actually  _goes camping_ , most people would go to the village and find a decent hotel instead.

That said, he only launched into the whole Jersey Devil explanation speech because they had seen a number of ghost towns while coming here, which had led to explaining Roland  _why_  it was the case (Roland kept on saying it looked like  _the world had moved on_ there, too), and now Roland is just looking not very impressed as he sits down on the ground, cross-legged.

“Some people think that there’s a monster with the  _head of a goat_ , bat wings and horns and the likes going around this place.”

“Hey, I never said I bought that!”

“You sounded fairly excited,” Roland deadpans, still glancing around their clearing. They’re surrounded by trees, everything is dark bar for the lights courtesy of the camping management and there’s admittedly nothing else to do other than talking, since they had dinner a short while before. He shrugs.

“It’s a good story,” Eddie shrugs. “And you know I’ve got a talent for good stories.”

“It seems ridiculous to  _me_ ,” Roland says, “but you  _can_  tell it, I guess.”

“Wow, thank you. I’m absolutely flattered. Do you wanna hear of that time in 1909 when the entire county apparently saw it?”

“You  _can_ , but I have a feeling that was the main point of the story, wasn’t it?”

Eddie laughs – okay, fine, right, got it, Roland had a point.

“Fine,  _fine_ , next time I’m gonna be slightly less obvious. So, what’d you do if the Jersey Devil showed up right now in all its demonic self?”

“I’d shoot it,” Roland replies at once. “But since  _it doesn’t exist_ , it’s a moot point, isn’t it?”

“You’d become the hero of every conspiracy theorist in existence,” Eddie points out, wishing he had a camera because Roland’s face is  _priceless_.

“I’d much rather  _not_ ,” Roland says drily, rolling himself a cigarette. “And anyway, what’s so different from what we used to do every night back in Mid-World?”

“Well,” Eddie has to admit, “ _technically_ , we were camping. But camping is about having  _fun_.”

“Didn’t we… have fun, though?” Shit, now Roland sounds like he’s doubting they actually  _did_ , which is not what Eddie had been aiming for.

“Of course we did,” Eddie says immediately, figuring that the least he needs is getting the guy to think they  _hated_ being there, as if they hadn’t chosen it, “but I mean, we were on a mission. If you go camping you don’t  _go on a mission_. You just want to hang out with friends and have fun and, share dumb ghost stories and complain about how hard the ground is while enjoying every second of it. And we don’t  _have a mission_.”

“Fair enough,” Roland concedes. “I suppose that was the,  _dumb_   _ghost story_?”

“Hey, the Jersey Devil isn’t a bloody ghost,” Eddie immediately replies. “It’s a  _demon_.”

“Well, it certainly is  _dumb_. Why would you even  _curse your child_?”

“Because it’s one too many?”

“There’s ways to bed someone without ending up pregnant,” Roland deadpans. “Anyway, was the point scaring me?”

“As if the fucking  _Jersey Devil_  would scare you. No, it was to give you the full experience. Well, okay, I should roast marshmallows, but you can’t light up fires in here.”

“Are you supposed to?”

“It’s kind of a staple.”

“So what we were doing in Mid-World was more  _camping_  than  _this_?”

… Eddie  _should_  give him that, because he’s technically right and honest, he’s delighted that Roland’s back to his old brand of sass that had come out during the branch of their trip in Mid-World that  _he_ remembers (loop nineteen – he gave up on remember seventeen, but apparently nineteen was the important one) and he had been way too quiet the first few weeks, except that a moment later the lights go out.

All of them.

“… What,” he says.

“ _You_  tell me.”

He shrugs. “Probably a short circuit,” he says, going for the most likely explanation. He shudders – well, it’s cold. That’s why he wanted a fire, but never mind. At least they have a decent enough tent.

It’s completely fucking pitch black now though – there isn’t even the moon out tonight, so he can’t see shit beyond the embers of Roland’s cigarette.

“Maybe,” he says, “we should go inside the tent.”

“We should?”

“Well, it’s the  _one_  thing about camping we haven’t done for now,” Eddie snorts, and he can feel more than see Roland shrugging before he crawls back into the tent – Eddie follows him, closing the flap and not even bothering to tell Roland to put the cigarette out. He doesn’t mind the smell, not anymore, and he shouldn’t put it out in the middle of a field anyway. Lest it really catches fire.

“That’d be?” Roland asks.

Eddie doesn’t waste too much time moving on top of him, his hand reaching out and grasping at Roland’s shoulder.

“Making out inside a tent while it’s dark out and the ground is uncomfortable as hell,” he says against Roland’s mouth, and he  _was_ going to lean down –

Except that he hears a screech coming from outside the tent and he startles slightly – Roland’s hand goes to his elbow and grasps at it, but Eddie can fucking  _feel_  that he’s smirking.

“Interesting,” he says.

“That has to be some wild animal,” Eddie says, and resolutely does not startle again when he hears screeching for the second time.

“Of course it is,” Roland deadpans. “Are you sure you don’t want to check if it’s the  _Jersey Devil_?”

“Roland, my friend, I think that if it  _was_ , I’d rather avoid a meet-up. I have much better prospects for now.”

“As in?”

“Showing you  _the entire point_  of fucking camping,” Eddie says, and leans down to kiss him already, drowning out the third screech of the evening.

Honestly, now  _this_  is the entire point, and as Roland moans lightly into his mouth and rough hands grasp at his hair, Eddie decides that they totally need to do this more often.

And as far as the  _Jersey Devil_  is concerned, it can screech as much as it likes – Eddie’s not moving anytime soon and Roland isn’t either.

Then again, maybe next time they could go to Maine.

Or maybe  _not_ , he decides, thinking about what happened last time they both were in Maine. All things considered, maybe the Jersey Devil wannabe outside their tent isn’t that much of a price to pay if it gets Roland  _this_  worked up, Eddie thinks as Roland’s hands work on undoing his belt, and then he doesn’t pay the thing any attention anymore. He’s got entirely better options to think of, after all.

 

End.


End file.
